


That Good Night

by Cinnie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Old Age, Regeneration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnie/pseuds/Cinnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler is eight hundred and ninety-six years old and she's finally dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Good Night

Rose Tyler was eight-hundred and ninety-six years old and she was finally dying. It had, she thought been an interesting life. Part of her felt very deeply about interesting lives being a curse, not that she hadn’t had a good life, but so much of it had been sad.

Even now, a little old lady in her bed, centuries since she’d seen him last, she brought to mind her Doctor. Her first, her second, and then finally her beloved husband.

James Noble, as he’d called himself here, had, unfortunately, been all too human and had died at ninety-eight. They had children of course, and since Rose had remained young they’d ended up over the years having eighteen of them. There were all gone now, just like James and she’d let their descendent slowly slip away, some, would return, a couple of times she’d taken custody of multi-great grandchild and raised them as her own. The pain of losing them never eased though, but she relished it still, because it meant that despite her physiology, she was still human. James had understood, that, at last, and his last words were of his love for her and he’d died holding her hand.

After James went, while she still looked twenty, she’d thrown herself into Torchwood and made it a powerful force, and now, all these years later, Torchwood was on multiple planets, as this un-verse version of universal police, but once she actually began looking her age, Rose had slowly let others step up, carefully groomed others, who would care for Torchwood and what it stood for.

Now, at long last it was her turn, she sighed a little, her body finally worn thin, she’d sobbed in joy the first time she noticed a gray hair in her brush and had jealousy rejoiced in each new wrinkle that appeared. She gave a faint huff of amusement, a fifty year menopause had been something she’d have preferred skipping but oh well.

Part of her did feel a bit bad though, the TARDIS, the one the Doctor had given them, had only just finished growing, Donna’s suggestion had sped it up a little, but unfortunately not enough and now that it was done, there was no one to use it. Poor thing would simply sit in the basement and collect dust, and odd relic of an eccentric old woman.

Shifting a bit more, she felt her heart slowing, her breath easing out and her mind fogged. Joy filled her heart, soon, soon, she’d see James again, and her children, and her Mum, and Tony, and maybe both Pete’s and she let a few tears ease down her wrinkled cheeks at the thought.

Then, just when she thought everything was over, she felt it. Just a faint tingling sensation first, but it steadily got stronger and stronger until it exploded, or she exploded, she didn’t know.

A few minutes later, sitting up on the destroyed bed, Rose Tyler, age eight hundred and ninety-six, sat up, brand new heart hammering in her brand new chest.

Reaching a hand up, she ran her fingers through her new hair, pulling some forwards, the brown ringlets mocked her, and she gripped them tightly as a scream ripped itself from her lips. She flung herself down, sobbing her heart out as the realization of what happened sank in.

A few hours later, a much calmer Rose made her way down the stairs of her empty house to the basement.

Slowly, she placed a hand on the blue wood of the door, then slid her hand down, and with a bittersweet grin, _pulled_ to open the door, and looked about her new home.

The joyous hum that filled her head eased her heart, and she slowly walked forwards, the grating cool beneath her bare feet.

Well, she thought, first stop would be a clothing store, maybe a mall on some planet a million miles away.

With a firm nod, new determination filling her, she slowly, but with increasing speed and confidence, she began the dance around the console that would set her off on her new life.

She had worlds to see, civilizations to save, creatures to fight, and an awful lot of running to do.


End file.
